Pacification of Jiangdong (4)
The day after I had put Sima Yi in charge of the prison.
With my usual unhurried stride, I made my way to where Ze Rong was being held.
"..."
The soldier standing guard over the block stepped aside the moment he saw my face, and I slipped through the open door into the prison.
Then, a moment after stepping in and glancing around—
──...
A silence hung over the interior that was strange to the point of being uncanny. Well, that was a surprise. Torture, I'd been told—so I'd fully expected to walk into a chorus of screams the moment I crossed the threshold.
Besides Ze Rong, the bandits who had followed him were locked up in here as well, and the fact that every last one of them was this quiet struck me as slightly off.
...Surely it wasn't quiet because they were all dead?
The atmosphere in the place was genuinely eerie, too. I could have sworn I'd seen an opening scene very much like this in some horror film.
But then, this was a world where sorcery and mystic arts actually existed, so a ghost showing up wouldn't have been strange at all.
Which, now that ghosts were on my mind, raised a rather interesting question.
Would Seo Yeo jump out of her skin if she saw one?
"Seo Yeo."
"Yes."
Under Seo Yeo's steady gaze, I answered in a perfectly casual voice.
"Nothing. Just felt like calling you."
"...?"
At my completely unprompted behavior, Seo Yeo tilted her head in a rather adorable fashion.
At that point, Lü Bu, who had been watching the whole scene, spoke up.
"How come you never call me like that?"
"Hm?"
"This is discrimination, that's what!"
"..."
Honestly, that woman could find discrimination in absolutely anything. Thinking she hadn't changed one bit, even after bearing my child, I called her name in a level voice.
"...Lü Bu."
"Heheh. What is it?"
This was Lü Bu, lit up like she'd won a war just from hearing her name once.
After that bit of odd small talk, I passed several cells wrapped in the same uncanny quiet, and before long I found him—Ze Rong, lying meekly in his spot like the other prisoners.
...Was he asleep?
"Ugh... ughhh..."
The sleep-talk sounded a touch wrong, like a man trapped in a nightmare, but there was no question he was out cold.
"Ah, you're here."
Just as I cocked my head once more at the state of the prison, a familiar voice drifted over from nearby.
"..."
My pint-sized strategist wore a bright, breezy expression, like some long-carried weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders. Facing her, I had no choice but to ask.
"...Why do you look so pleased with yourself?"
"Must be your imagination."
No, you're definitely in a good mood. Normally, whenever Sima Yi set eyes on me, her face settled into something vaguely prickly, like a cat nursing a grievance—lips clamped shut, eyebrow tips angled ever so slightly upward. But today, not even that expression was anywhere to be seen, which made it quite certain she was in an excellent mood.
"In any case, isn't it about time we had our conversation? Adjutant?"
"Yes."
The woman called adjutant marched into the cell the instant Sima Yi's order left her lips and woke Ze Rong.
"Up."
Splash!
"Pwahh...?!"
...By emptying a bucket of cold water over him, that is.
So at least they didn't beat him awake. How considerate.
Ze Rong, who had been muttering strange things in his sleep, blinked around in a daze the moment the cold water hit him.
"Wh-where... where am I...?"
"Oh dear. Seems he still hasn't come to his senses."
"...Gahk!"
At the sound of Sima Yi's voice, Ze Rong shot bolt upright on the spot.
"What do you mean, 'hasn't come to his senses'?! This bandit is perfectly hale and hearty, I assure you!"
"..."
Just what on earth had been done to him, that he could muster that much spirit? I studied Ze Rong's desperately earnest answers more closely. His eyes wandered, hazy and unfocused, and his legs trembled as though they would give out beneath him at any moment.
By any measure he was in terrible shape, so how was he moving that crisply? Undoubtedly because of the countless memories carved into his body.
Sima Yi drifted over to my side and whispered in a small voice.
"It's only been a single day, but he'll answer just about any question you put to him now."
"I see."
One look at the man told you as much. I hadn't inspected Ze Rong in detail yet, but without a doubt, some part of his body was now missing. Even the hand visible past the bars was short a few fingernails.
"..."
A single day had passed, and he was already in that state.
I could only shudder at the interrogation skills possessed by the little strategist before me. Humans are frail creatures where pain is concerned—push them past the limit they can endure, and they simply break.
And I don't mean that figuratively.
Going mad as an escape from reality is the least of it; there were those who declared outright that they could bear no more and died of shock on the spot.
It was no accident that an age like this one had an entire specialized profession built around the 'art of torture.'
Of course, since a torturer's trade amounted to 'cooking' people this way and that (?), quite a few of them ended up more than a little unhinged.
Good lord, how shocked I'd been the first time I met the torturers employed at the Imperial Palace. There were antisocial souls who had leapt gladly at the chance to spill blood legally, and others whose burning patriotism for the nation had forged their will into iron.
Every time I witnessed things like this, it drove home anew that this really was an ancient era.
...Though, come to think of it, was the modern era really so different?
I drew near Ze Rong, who was still trembling like a leaf, and spoke.
"It seems you've been through quite an ordeal."
"Th-that is..."
"Ah. You don't have to answer that one."
After all, no one in their right mind was curious about where and how a mere bandit had been tortured. Keeping my voice calm and even, I asked:
"So. Are you ready to answer my questions now?"
"..."
"If you're not yet ready, I can come back tomorrow and—"
"I-I'll answer anything you ask! Please, do not leave!"
Ze Rong rushed his answer before I could even finish my sentence.
"..."
The real question was whether Sima Yi's frown at the sight was the problem here. Fair enough, though—by any measure, a mere prisoner had just cut me off mid-sentence, so her displeasure wasn't hard to understand.
"...!"
Ze Rong, who had been shouting at me while sneaking one panicked glance after another at Sima Yi, went corpse-pale.
"I'll give up everything—the fortune I've hidden away, and every bastard who fattened himself alongside me! I beg you...!"
He had evidently grasped, intuitively, that if I walked away now, something truly catastrophic awaited him.
Watching him squirm, I turned to Sima Yi.
"He says so. What do you think?"
"...Why are you asking me that?"
Because if I decided on my own, someone would sulk at me for days. Obviously.
"You really do treat me like a child..."
Sima Yi, having read the thought in my eyes, heaved a long sigh before replying.
"Do as you please. I merely follow you, after all."
"Oh. That actually moved me a little."
"...Moved you? How, exactly?"
Sima Yi asked in a tone of sheer disbelief, but knowing what the Sima Yi of true history was like, I found her answer genuinely striking.
Displease you, and you'd feign illness for years on end before finally pulling off your own 'Gaoping Tombs' coup.
For a woman like that to declare she would follow me—without even a whiff of a lie in it—was a very moving thing indeed.
With Sima Yi's blessing secured, I murmured to myself.
"Good. Then shall we hear what he has to say?"
"Y-yes! An excellent decision, truly!"
Now that I looked, several of his teeth were gone as well.
She'd tenderized him thoroughly, methodically, from head to toe—couldn't have any part of him feeling left out.
Confronted with Ze Rong's thoroughly sinister, gap-toothed grin, I smirked right back.
"I'll wait outside. Take your time bringing him out."
At my order, Ze Rong's face drained white all over again—apparently something else was wrong now, too.
"W-wait a moment! How do you know what these bitches will do to me while you're gone...!"
"Yes. I'll reason with him calmly so he doesn't get any funny ideas."
"I say there! Don't go! Don't go—!"
Ugh. Being pleaded with by a grown man is not a particularly pleasant feeling.
Unable to stomach any more of Ze Rong's desperate begging, I hastened out of there, and before long his voice cut off dead.
So all that remained now was the alliance of Jiangdong's local magnates.
Nodding to myself as I walked, I spent a brief stretch of time at ease—until I came upon a truly peculiar scene.
"Well, well. So you're that 'White Tiger,' huh?"
"A-ah! You're...!"
Before me stood the daughter of Sun Jian—the man known as the Tiger of Jiangdong—face to face with the girl who had dared to style herself a 'White Tiger' of her own.
With fresh interest blooming across her face, Sun Ce loosened up her body as she strolled toward Yan Baihu.
"All I've seen out of you so far is your back as you run. How about it? When there's a chance, want to have ourselves a proper duel?"
"Hyiiiik...! A terrifying woman is going to bite me to death...!"
Yan Baihu trembled like a frog before a snake—then caught sight of me and came dashing over.
"S-save me, I beg you! To kill a general who has surrendered is a violation of all honor!"
"Hey! Aren't you supposed to be the White Tiger? Stand your ground and fight her like you mean it!"
Hair in which white and black swirled in a dizzying mix.
Like Pang Tong, the girl's most striking feature was her hair color, and she hurried to shout back at Sun Ce's words.
"R-right now I am not the White Tiger, I am merely a little white kitty! Meow!"
"..."
What in the world are you two doing.
Stunned by an answer that transcended all imagination, Sun Ce cried out in alarm.
"Wh-what?! How can you say something that embarrassing without batting an eye?!"
"When survival is at stake, there is nothing a person cannot do! As we speak, I am standing upon the corpses of my own comrades!"
I honestly couldn't decide whether this was what getting along looked like.